


Worth A Shot

by Lady_Paper_Writerson



Series: Fragments of Bats [3]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Romance, Sexual Tension, Tim does his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Paper_Writerson/pseuds/Lady_Paper_Writerson
Summary: After all the things he has learned -and remembered-, Dick feels the world crumbling around him for a second time. He finds his shaken mind preoccupied with one single thought: that of his estranged brother. All that matters now is finding Jason once more.Luckily, he has some ideas of who might be able to help him at it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) We're continuing about a week later of the events of Scars That Never Heal, and we'll be slowly diffting off canon from now on -though certain things will always apply.
> 
> Tags do apply, as usual. Enjoooooy!

“Goodnight, Barbara”.

“See you around, Nate”.

Her colleague hastily walks away, and she’s tugging her ivory white coat tightly around her. No wonder. Cold pierces through skin tonight.

She crosses the top stair where he’s currently seated on, passes right beside his form but doesn’t notice him. All attention is on her phone screen. He suddenly feels like an idiot. He’s intensely flirting with the idea to wait until she’s out of sight, and then get a cab and head back to the train station, back to Blüdhaven.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

He is there _now_ , though. He had come back to Gotham just for that. He _ought_ to try.

He awkwardly sits up, straightening his back, and clears his throat. “Excuse me, miss, I’m looking for a certain _bat_ , could you help me, perhaps?”

It’s an idiotic joke, he knows, but she doesn’t seem displeased. She swiftly turns to look at him, stunned, as he climbs down the stairs towards her, and then she smiles, pleasantly surprised it seems. “Dick!” she exclaims. “Hi!”

“Hi, Barbara”, he smiles back.

A few seconds of silent uneasiness follow, and Dick knows he should be the one to break this through, and yet, finding the best of words felt impossible.

“I thought you’d be in Blüdhaven by now”, Barbara makes the start, eventually. “Weren’t you supposed to leave days ago?”

Dick feels a sting of guilt at her politeness and obvious joy to see him. Perfect contrast to his own rudeness and sarcasm against her good will, last time they’d met. It must have been about a week ago, during his last day at the hospital.

Of all the many people visiting him -Bruce, Alfred and Barbara being the most regular faces- she’d been, for some reason, the one he felt the most frustrated and uncomfortable with, when around. He wasn’t able to comprehend why. Considering their history together -even Jason had pointed that out- the case should have been the exact opposite. However, the more Barbara seemed to want to take care of him and help him, the more distant he grew. She’d noticed that, of course, and sometimes he could even detect pain in her eyes. It wasn’t pleasant to him, and yet, he didn’t have the will or the strength to even talk to her about it. He felt kind of ashamed of it.

This frustration had reached its crescendo and finally stormed off that particular day. She had entered the room, happy and full of joy, only to meet with something feral and raw in return. He had rejected her help, her friendship, her everything, with a coldness and an arrogance that had almost brought tears in her eyes.

He wondered how she’d still talk to him.

“Yeah, I… I did go, I’ve been there all week. Just came back because… I had to talk to you. I need some help with… a thing, and I thought maybe you’d be able to assist me. Do you have some time?”

Her whole face brightens warmly, like a sun, as she reaches her hand to squeeze his arm. “Dick, of course! Sure, I have time… anything you need. I’m… I’m always glad to see you”.

Her genuine interest, all this caring, makes him feel even guiltier for his past behavior, but he holds his tongue. This isn’t the right moment to start apologizing.

“Are you hungry?” she goes on, more lighthearted. “I’d definitely grab something to eat. I skipped lunch, so, by now, I’m starving”.

“Sounds great”, he agrees. “I… I’m not keeping you from… you know?”

“Not tonight. Night off” she winks at him. “Lucky you. I don’t get a lot of those, lately”.

Red hair frames her delicate face, dancing in the wind all around, as that pair of clear sky blues elicits a strange bit of his heart, spreading something that very much feels like repeated flickers of wings in the depths of his chest.

Yeah. Lucky him, indeed.

 

* * *

 

 

He doesn’t hold back to her. He tells her everything, before their food even arrives. About Jason, about Bruce, his conversations with both of them, the memories that had made it back to him. Barbara listens very patiently, focused solely on him. She doesn’t interrupt him, not even on the parts where her expression goes full frown or stunned. Only when it’s obvious he’s done does she sit up, shaking her head as she takes a sip of her soda.

“Bruce didn’t say a thing” she growled. “I’ve seen him twice this week, dammit… and guess what: not-a-thing. Not about Jason, not about you… Hell, I even _asked_ him how have _you_ been before you left, and he was like ‘he was fine, urgh, focus on the info I’m passing’… seriously, now?”

He lets out a small laugh.

“It’s not funny, Dick” she huffs, pushing back her hair with one hand. “I mean… God! Not wanting to tell me certain stuff is fine, there’s different missions, there’s privacy, I get it, but _this_? He _knows_ how freaking worried I am about you…”

“No, it’s… your imitation of him… hah. Right on point”.

Barbara can’t hold back a smile, but she dismisses it immediately. “At least now I know what’s going on. He’s been so much _grimmer_ , if you can imagine that”.

“I don’t care about how he is”, he murmurs, lowering his eyes to his drink, knowing his words aren’t entirely true.

Barbara doesn’t comment on that. She just leans forward, lightly squeezing one of his hands. “Dick, despite everything… I’m so glad you started remembering things. So glad. Even though Ι… Ι wish your first memories were more pleasant ones”.

Dick doesn’t particularly mind that. After all, they weren’t all bad. The very first one he got, his hiking trip with Jason, never failed to warm up his heart whenever he recalled it. He squeezes back, nonetheless, smiling genially.

There is a small pause when their food arrives. As soon as Barbara has swallowed her first bite of tuna sandwich, he blurts out the question that torments him, his voice dripping hope: “Did you talk to him about it? Did you confront him about what he did to Jason?”

She flinches slightly, teeth suddenly clenching, but remains seemingly expressionless. She puts down her glass, which was about to reach her lips just seconds ago and fixes her look on her hands. “No”, she answers quietly.

He’s vastly disappointed at that, and he doesn’t bother hiding it. “Why?” he asks, a bit desperately it seems.

Barbara takes a deep breath. “For the same reason none of us directly did that, Dick. Not you… not Tim… not Damian… not me. The very same reason: because… I was a coward”.

It’s an answer he definitely _doesn’t_ expect, one that leaves him stunned and confused. “What do you mean?”

She briefly closes her eyes and inhales. “We can make up with many excuses, but we can’t hide from ourselves. There is only one truth, and it is _shameful_ to us all: none of us faced him… because it was _easier_ this way. We all chose to show our displeasure in other ways. None of us had the courage to do the right thing and call this out. Get there, grab him and shake him and scream at him ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing, you fucking asshole’”.

He wets his lips, feeling his throat dry. “What do you mean by _easier_?”

She gives a faint, unhappy smile. “There was time when people thought that speaking the name of a demon would make it… _real_. You see… Bruce wouldn’t talk about what happened that night on his own, and me, on the other hand, was too afraid to address the matter, because… I was terrified of the _answers_ I might got. I was certain that those answers would create a crack so deep that none of us would ever be able to overcome. I didn’t want to hear the truth from his lips, because I was afraid that maybe, just maybe… I wouldn’t be able to handle it. So… yeah. That’s it. I was a coward”.

She finally brings her glass to her lips -her hands faintly shaking- and he lowers his eyes, processing it. For some weird reason, he doesn’t feel at all upset. Disappointed and empty, maybe, but no upset. He appreciates and admires her honesty, and vaguely thinks it does actually take a certain amount of bravery for someone to admit that acted with cowardice, and that they did so, so wrong.

“I don’t know what happened that night” she speaks again, before he does. “I still can’t explain it. I can’t understand how Bruce reached to that point. It makes me shiver down my spine, just thinking about it. We don’t really have much of a relationship to this day. We’re just… strictly talking missions ever since. Tim and Damian… I’m quite sure they’re not talking to him at all at this point. Tim since the incident, Damian since a little earlier. You were the only one that tried to get close to him, but then…”

“I got shot?”

“Yes”, she says sadly. “Then you were shot”.

He looks down at his plate, and suddenly feels he’s not hungry at all. “How could I do that, Barbara?” he murmurs. “You… _fine_. You didn’t do anything to confront him. But at least you walked away, isn’t that right? You made your case clear, even by just your absence from his life. But _me_? How could I come back and just… help him, after what he did? Was I really that much of an asshole? Standing by his side, while Jason…”

“Hey”, she cuts him off strictly, a bright flash in her eyes. “I won’t allow you to think low on yourself. Not for things you shouldn’t, at least”.

“Then _explain_ to me, please, because I honestly don’t have a clue”.

“Dick, it’s…”

“Complicated?”

“No, not really. First of all, know this: you were never the type of person that would let Bruce get away with something you believed he did wrong. Out of all of us -with the exception of Alfred, of course- you and Jason had always been the ones that would stand against him, only… Jason has always been more… impulsive. He’d never lose a chance to blame something on Bruce and engage into a fight with him, even if he wasn’t exactly wrong. His anger, and rage, and pain, rarely let him see things completely clear. You, on the other hand… when you did call Bruce out, there had always been serious reasons as to why. Just like you did this time as well, after your meeting with Jason”.

He lifts an eyebrow. “You’re implying that _this_ wasn’t a serious enough reason?”

“Not at all, Dick. I’m just trying to clear things out, before I get to the main course here. Pay attention”, she indicates. “This time, the case had been something we had never come across before, and it shocked us all. Maybe that’s why we weren’t able to react appropriately, I don’t know. You had figured out a very specific way to try and deal with it”.

“I’m looking forward to admire my own geniusness” he growls, viciously pinching a piece of his chicken with his fork.

“Bruce had been completely off limits, in any way possible, and had to return to his normal state, to recover. Your thinking was that the only way for this to happen would be for him to take it easy first, to calm down, because only then he would slowly come to the realization of what exactly he had done. And once this had been fulfilled… then and only then you intended to give him the hell he deserved, before starting to look for ways to mend things up”.

He shifts uncomfortably on his seat. “How do you know all that?”

Barbara smiles calmly and takes another bite of her sandwich. “Because you told me. And because you’d never give up on Bruce. Not even in his darkest times. Just like he never gave up on you”.

Dick snorts, annoyed. “But he _did_ give up on Jason. Just like ** _I_** did. Right?”

She crosses her hands over the table. “Don’t expect me to tell you you’ve been flawless and unmistakable, Dick. On the contrary. You’ve done _plenty_ of wrong regarding Jason -most of us have. You’re not perfect, nor a saint. But this doesn’t automatically mean you’re some kind of heartless piece of filth. As strained as your relationship has been, you’ve always considered him your brother. You _have_ given up on him in the past, but _not_ this time. You’ve been by Jason’s side, not Bruce’s. Trust me on this”.

 

***

 

_She lightly lands on the rooftop just seconds before he’s about to fly off of it._

_“Batman!”_

_He eases his pose and swiftly turns to look at her, and…_

_Oh… **oh**._

_Barbara almost instantly recognizes Dick in the cowl instead of Bruce, his form leaner than their mentor’s, more slender and graceful, less stiff, less massive of muscle. She supposes it’s only logical for him to want some time off, after all that hellstorm that had burst out over the past few weeks. Still, it surprises her a bit, mostly since she never got any notification of the -supposedly- brief substitution. It didn’t feel right. Bruce had always been so thorough about updating them for even the smallest of changes in the regular program._

_The situation **does** get her a little off guard, if not disappointed even. She hoped they could finally have an actual, clear talk tonight, regarding the vicious chaos in which their lives have been blending and smashing into for a while now._

_At least she’d get to see Dick. That was **always** something._

_“Dick! Hi”, she says, getting closer. “When did you get to Gotham?”_

_“Hey, Babs. Just this morning. It seems I’ll be sticking around for a while. What’d you think? The cowl still looks good on me, right?”_

_His voice lacks its usual color and brightness. She can tell by his very first words, even though it’s obvious that he **does** try to keep things light. Beneath that, though, he sounds weary… worn out._

_“Most things look good on you”, she smiles, taking a non-so-innocent look down and back._

_Dick chuckles. “You shameless tramp. Harassing me like that”._

_“Hey, you **asked** , darling”, she raises her hands defensively._

_She laughs a bit, quietly, and takes a moment to study him. He doesn’t laugh himself, just smiles, but it’s a melancholic, unhappy smile, nonetheless. He’s glad to see her, that she’s sure of… but something eats him inside. It’s obvious. She knows him only too well for this to pass unnoticed._

_“Happy, or sad?” she asks him._

_He flinches a little at that, lets out a small snicker. He knows what she’s trying to pull off._

_It’s been a thing of theirs, far too old, even before they got together. When one of them suspected the other wasn’t doing well, and they didn’t have much time to extensively talk about their feelings, they’d ask this simple question, just to catch up a bit, and if the answer was sad, to offer some words of comfort, at least, before they’d actually met to talk about it. As they grew older, when messaging, they’d use smiley faces on each side of the word “or”._

_“Dick?” she prompts, since he’s still silent._

_“I’m not sad”, he says mechanically._

**_Only devastated,_ ** _she thinks, and tries not to comment out loud._

_“You don’t look happy either”, she points out in a low, smooth voice._

_Dick snorts, gaze dropping down at his feet, his fingers of one hand slightly curling into a fist. “But boy, do I look good”, he sighs._

_Barbara’s starting getting worried. Dick is such a vivid spirit, permanently with that eternal, truthful, heartwarming smile on his face. It has always been extra hard,_ _seeing him like that. It pained her like very few other things._

_He sits down at the edge of the roof, his feet hanging, and she’s fast to join him. She doesn’t press, however. Dick doesn’t need that. 90% of the time he does the talking, but still, sometimes it’s enough for him to just have someone that cares there, beside him. Feeling them close to him, feeling their love and care, even without the need of words to be spoken. Talking may or may not follow (which is mostly Jason's thing). When - **if** \- Dick is ready, then he’s ready. He knows that she’s there now._

_“I managed to reach Roy”, he says after quite some time, when she’s already starting to think this particular time would go without verbal communication, “and we met”._

_She jumps as if electrocuted and manages to push all the hows and the whens away in order to gasp out the most important question of all, the only one that really matters: “Did you see Jason?”_

_He shakes his head negatively, and more questions arise, but once again, she leaves them for later. “But… how is he, at least? What did Roy say?”_

_Dick draws a deep breath inside. His back is bowed, and his shoulders curled as he reaches for the mask and pulls it off, and it seems, for some reason, that he breathes easier this way. He doesn’t bother freshen up his hair. Those usually bright, starry eyes appear to be glassy and empty now, as his gaze fixes up and away, over the skyscrapers soaring up in Gotham’s misty skies._

_“Dick, please”, she lightly squeezes his arm, unable to hide the agony in her voice. “You’re freaking me out! Is he okay?”_

_He faintly moves his head, as if he wants to look at her, but all he ends up doing is bowing it down, his bottom lip curling and trembling slightly. “Everything was fine, Babs”, his voice comes out hoarsely, almost as a whisper. “We were… we were all doing… as good as possible. How did we get down to… **this**?”_

_She had no idea what to say, how to respond. He tries to maintain his self-control and equanimity, but he majorly fails, as the first tears roll down his cheeks._

_“Roy says… he says he… he can’t get up, he can’t walk on his own… he… he almost passed out once while trying… He has concussion, and… and his ribs are broken, and he’s constantly on painkillers, because otherwise he’s in **pain** all the time… he can’t… my… my Little Wing…”_

_His voice breaks in a soft whine and a silent sob, as he closes his eyes, more tears dripping from between the locked eyelids, as he brings one hand on his face._

_“And… and I wanted so much to see him, to tell him I’m there for him, and yet… I was so afraid and **ashamed** to face him… I just left and went to Tim, because I knew how worried he was as well. I told him Bruce asked me to take over the cowl for a while, and that I accepted, and he…” _

_Wide walls of devastation close suffocatingly around her at the sight of him in such a state, as he chokes up on his own words again. She doesn’t interrupt him, though. Since he started, he’d better spill everything out._

_“Roy and Tim think I’m defending Bruce, they’re… they’re so **angry** at me right now… Tim doesn’t even want to talk to me… and… I swear to you, Babs, I’m not, I’m **not** defending him! I’m not! How could anyone, after what he did? I just have to do what’s right, because, indeed, he can’t just keep strolling around while in such state, and Gotham can’t be without Batman for God knows how long! But also…"_

_She wishes she knew what he intended to say so she could help him spit it out. All she can do right now is run a gentle hand through his hair in comfort._

_“I was prepared, you know”, he sniffs, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I didn’t sleep at all on the plane to Gotham. Just repeated in my head all the things I’d tell him once I’d laid eyes on him, and when I finally did… God, Babs, if you saw him… how he was… how he **is** …”_

_He lets out a pathetic laugh, and she presses herself by his side, her forehead resting on his shoulder._

_“He doesn’t even communicate with Alfred anymore,"_ _he wipes his face again. “Not **really**. Alfred is… he’s still there because he loves him so much, but I’ve never seen him this **cold** with him, this distant._ _He’s never been like that with any of us. He got me soon after I finished my talk with him and asked about Jason, he’s so worried about him. And I… I lied to him, Babs. I lied. To **Alfred**. I told him that he’s better, that he’s doing well, because otherwise, he would be **devastated** …”_

_“I understand,"_ _she says softly._

_“No, no Babs, no!” he protests, more tears glimmering in those deep blue seas he has for eyes. “You shouldn’t say you understand, you should be yelling at me right now, because… because I should have told Alfred the truth! I should have lashed on Bruce and beat him down bloody, just like he did to Jason… I **should** be hating him, right? Hating him, loathing him… I wish I could do that, but I… I **can’t**! I can’t, and… and I want… I want to **help** him, Babs, help him overcome this and be himself again, because this… what he did to Freeze, what he did to **Jason** … this isn’t him! It… it **isn’t** who he is, Bruce… he loves us, dammit!”_

_All his pain, all his fears, all his doubts… hers, as well. She can barely hold back her own tears now, as she wraps her arms around him and holds him, holds him tight like dear life, like she used to do in the past when those moments of heartbreak were upon them, back when he was hers, and she was his…_

_She could do that again. She’d probably do just about anything for Dick. What he needed at that point was merely a friend. And that’s what she would be, despite the true wishes of her heart, despite her mind mocking her about it._

_“I just… I just want us to be together again”, he whispers. “All of us… **together**. That’s all I want, Babs, and as of right now… it doesn’t seem it’ll be possible ever again”._

 

***

 

“But Roy, and Tim… the things I remember…”

“They had their reasons for not seeing things your way, and it’s completely understandable. Roy was furious, and highly anxious about Jason, I presume. He _saved_ him, carried him, all bloody and wrecked, and naturally, his only concern was how he’d got better. He’s always been highly protective of the people he loved”.

Even if he had no memory of him other than the one he’d got from that difficult meeting in that bar, the fact that the archer wasn’t there anymore caused him a deep discomfort and distress.

“As for Tim… he was angry as well, sure, but even more so… _hurt_. Never said it, never let it show… but I know it. He was, perhaps, more shocked about what happened than any of us. Tim has a very sweet, very gently heart, and despite the fact he’d been one of Jason’s first targets when he came back from the dead, the two of them grew much closer. I’d go as far as to say that, after Alfred, Tim has been the one closest to him over the past few years”.

Dick felt a pinch of guilt at her words, recalling the memory of their conversation in the Titans Tower back then, of how he had refused Tim when he asked that he’d help him contact Harper to get to Jason. On the other hand, it was strangely annoying how displeased he felt upon the information that Tim used to be closer to Jason than he himself.

“Dick”, she interrupts his thoughts, “what did you mean when you said you needed help with something?”

He lightly bites the inside of his cheek before he responds. “I can’t stop thinking about him”, he says. “Jason. I just can’t. How could Bruce let everything come down on him so unfairly, I’ll never know. And I really don’t care about anything regarding Bruce, not right now”.

He nervously folds and unfolds his hands on the table. Barbara waits, patiently, and he mentally thanks her for giving him as much time as he needed to gather up his thoughts and words. This definitely was one hell of a listener.

“Yesterday morning I walked in the deli on the corner of my street, in Blüdhaven. The guy there _knew_ me. He called me by my name, joyfully greeted me, asked me ‘what’s up’ and why had I disappeared. And once more, I had no clue who he was. I had to sit there and explain him how things are now. He didn’t believe me at first, thought I was kidding. Then he realized I wasn’t, and started mumbling apologies, how sorry he feels, how I should go to him for anything I needed… which is nice and polite, I guess… but it made me feel _terrible_ ”.

She clenched her teeth, a pained expression in her face, but still didn’t interrupt him. It felt kind of sweet, how she obviously cared about him. Why on earth hadn’t he seen that in the damn hospital?

“What I’m trying to say, is… it’s so… so hard, all of this, and I’m so _tired_. It’s infuriating, and hurtful beyond words how lost, and clueless, and awkward I feel every second of every day ever since I woke up in the hospital. The only time, the one single time all of this was gone, was as soon as Jason appeared. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just that he didn’t treat me _differently_ , you know? Like he was afraid for me, or highly protective, like everyone else was… Jason was just… cool about it. Talked to me like he’d talk to anyone, I suppose. He was so honest about everything he told me, and with him, I felt… I felt so comfortable, Barbara. I… I liked his company, even though he’d been so awkward about all of this. And then that first memory came along, finally piercing through all this insufferable blur in my head, and after that, _more_ followed, all of them having something to with him… and finally, I wasn’t _that_ clueless anymore”.

She nods and smiles in understanding, giving him a green light to keep this going.

“Then, when I learned what happened… how unfair all of it was to him… I don’t know. His best friend is dead, none of you is beside him… and judging by how much of a relic Bruce was after his meeting with him… I’m thinking that he’s not in the best emotional state he could be. Bruce told me not to worry about it, but… I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t… I don’t want him to feel unwanted and alone. I want you to help me find him”, he ends up.

She doesn’t expect that, clearly, and she sits up a little, surprised and thoughtful at the same time. “Why do you think I can assist you with it?”

“When I was being re-introduced to all of you, people mentioned you know how to find stuff”, he casually lifted his shoulders. “And Jason told me I’ve shared most of the aspects of my life with you. I figured if someone understood, it would be you”.

“My-my”, she laughs a bit. “He really _was_ honest”.

Dick nods impatiently. “Will you help me, Babs?”

He uses her nickname, the one she’s repeatedly told him he used to call her by, and he refused to use so far, utterly on purpose, hoping it will please her. It clearly does, and he’s almost stunned at how good and smooth it fits on his lips.

She sighs and takes another bite of her sandwich. “Just so you know”, she says while chewing, “it might not be easy. It’s been what, a week? He can be literally anywhere in the world by now, and if Jason doesn’t want to be found, if he’s covering tracks, well, we won’t get any lucky”.

"But it's worth a shot, right?"

Barbara agrees with another nod, and he doesn’t hold back that huge, relieved smile coming up on his lips. “Thank you, Barbara… thank you. So how are we doing this, exactly?”

“Relax. Finish your dinner first, we have time. We’ll get to my place after we’re done here, and… you’ll see”.

His smile turns into a helpless grin. “Your place, huh?” he says. “Neat”.

She questioningly raises an eyebrow.

“I’m just glad we’re about to spend some more time together”, he explains, casually lifting his shoulders with a naughty smirk. “You look beautiful in white, you know. You should wear this color more often”.

The scarlet blush rising on her cheeks instantly, exquisitely matching the strawberry red of her hair. It makes a mesmerizing picture, worth keeping in his mind. “What are you doing, Grayson?”

Her tone is a little confused, a little strict, and a little… hopeful, perhaps? Or is it just him, deliberately hearing what he’d like?

Maybe. Maybe he’s wrong.

“What?” he shrugs again, sneakily. “You _do_ ”.

She looks at him with an unreadable expression, briefly biting her bottom lip before she picks up her soda again, not further commenting on that. They engage into a different talk during the rest of their meal.

Dick soon realizes that, every second that comes by, he gradually feels more and more eager with her presence.


	2. Chapter 2

“And now we’re waiting?”

“And now we’re waiting”.

Dick fixes his eyes upon the computer screen, where, currently, the program running downloads new data with formidable speed. “How long is this going to take?”

“Hard to say. I’m speculating hours. I’m actually connected to the Batcomputer from here, but the process will be considerably slower, since I also need to keep covering our digital tracks”.

“Why would you need to do that?”

She smirks. “I thought you didn’t want to see Bruce”.

“What’s that have to do with it?”

“We’re using his system, Dick. If he casually checks, he’ll realize that immediately, and he’ll be at my doorstep shortly after”.

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get it. Don’t you use that system, like, all the time?”

“I do, but right now, it’s _Jason_ I’m looking into. After everything you told me happened, I think this will most certainly trigger him. That’s the reason why it’ll take that long”. She gazes at him for a few lingering moments, and then turns to the screen again, opening files, as if she’d been looking for something. “Earlier, at the café, you said that you’d given up on Jason, and I told you that was never the case”, she speaks, eyes surveying the screen behind her delicate glasses.

“Your point being?”

“A few years ago, there was an incident with Jason. It wasn’t uncommon during that time for us to get into conflict with him. It hadn’t been long since he’d come back, and… things were still difficult. Relationships strained”.

“It must have been very frustrating”.

“Yeah… to say the least. Anyway, the incident… I won’t get into the case in detail, but the thing is, one night, you and I have been texting about it. You’ve always been quite neutral in your reactions about Jason’s ministrations, but that particular time, you’ve also been quite protective of him, despite what he’d done. So, I asked you why that was, and you didn’t say anything. You answered with a picture. A photo of a telegram letter”.

He flinches at the sound of the printer working. Barbara’s hand welcomes the sheet of paper that comes out and then stretches her arm towards him. He takes it and reads the text of the photo:

_‘Dear Dickie-Bird –(STOP)- I survived and I’m all back to normal, in case you’re interested –(STOP)- I’m leaving town to find my own way. Thanks for coming for me, brother –(STOP)- I know we don’t agree on much –(STOP)- I just wanted to believe we could be family again –(STOP)---’_

There had been clearly more to it, but he’d only sent her this particular part.

There’s a hand gripping at his heart once the words settle in his head. “When did he send that to me?” he asks quietly.

“You said it was after he was captured once by some goons. Apparently, you went for him, along with Cheyenne Freemont -your girlfriend at the time. Jason was able to handle himself, eventually, but you didn’t get to see each other at all during all of this, so he sent you this letter. It was… it affected you heavily. The simplicity, honesty and slight pain of it. I’m sure that you must have kept it. If you look a little bit in your place in Blüdhaven, I bet it’ll be there somewhere”.

Dick feels huge amounts of tension gathering up in his chest, and this energy has nowhere to be taken out to, so, he reluctantly restrains it inside, choosing to swallow a few deep inhalations, instead. All he wants at that very moment is to find Jason, pull him into a hug and keep him in it for as long as possible.

He carefully folds the paper and pushes it in his pocket.

“I didn’t tell you this to make you sad”, she says calmly, rubbing a hand on his back. “Just because I don’t want you to be needlessly cruel to yourself”.

“If we don’t find him”, he rasps out, “do you think he’ll ever come back on his own?”

Barbara straightens her back and sighs. “I really don’t know, Dick. What I can tell you with certainty is that Jason always left, but somehow, his steps always brought him back here”.

“Why?”

She lifts her shoulders, declaring ignorance regarding the answer to this question. “Whatever the case, Dick… I’m very happy that you seem to care so much, so genuinely for him”, she adds warmly, clasping his hand. “Even if we don’t succeed, well… Jason will know that you care. And God, does he need that right now… after everything that’s happened”.

Despite everything, despite how powerful this is, Dick still isn’t convinced about himself and his actions in the past, regarding Jason. He’s not sure that his own caring would mean anything to him right now, and frankly, he wouldn’t blame him.

Barbara taps her hands on the fabric of her trousers and stands, extending a hand to him. “Come on. We’ll make some cookies.”

“We’ll do… what?” he can’t hold back a laugh as he takes her hand and rises to his feet as well.

“Cookies, red velvet cookies”, she repeats, guiding him to the kitchen.

“Do you really think it’s the right time to make… cookies?”

She smiles at him, opens the fridge and takes out the butter. “You have any better ideas on how to spend our time waiting?”

Truth be told, Dick doesn’t have any. Nothing that doesn’t include long, uncomfortable conversations, at least, and he doesn’t want that one bit right now. When - _if_ , he reminds himself- they locate Jason, _if_ they’re able to reach to him, and he actually wants to talk to him… there will be plenty of that then. “It’s alright, but… why cookies?”

“Cookies are nice”, she shrugs.

He senses there’s more to it, and Barbara knows that, as he can tell by her expression, but she doesn’t add anything else, and he decides to be patient about it. “Needless to say, I don’t remember shit about making them”.

Barbara laughs. It’s a sound like the sweetest of wind chimes. “Just follow my lead”.

“Now, _that_ sounds interesting”, he grins. “But seriously, are you sure you want to do this? Weren’t you working all day? Don’t you want to rest? Don’t bother just because I’m here”.

“Making cookies isn’t trouble Dick: it’s fun”, she winks.

Fun it is, he realizes as they work. As is _she_. Much more fun now, away from the frustration and the agony of those endless days at the hospital, when everyone had been treating him like he was made of glass. She’s cool and delightful, unconcerned, without that constant pain and worry he’d used to detect in her eyes every single time she looked at him. He was sick of seeing _that_ look in _everyone’s_ face back then. He knew it was out of interest, out of _love_ even, but all it eventually did was constantly making him feel miserable, and sometimes, even a desperate, thin wave of guilt for not being able to remember any of those people that clearly cared so much about him. For not being able to return their love to the fullest, or even offer a single sign of recognition…

She puts on a playlist while they’re at it. Time passes with more casual talk, with jokes, bad ones and good ones all along, and laughter, God, so much laughter! He finds himself adoring the feeling of it. He feels he laughs more within an hour or so than he did in those three months in total.

It’s nice. It’s beautiful.

 _She_ is beautiful.

“Damn!”

Barbara, who’s just put the cookie sheet on the oven, turns over her shoulder to look at the mess he’s made of his shirt. As he was picking up used utensils, the liquid red food coloring remaining on a spoon unceremoniously ended up rolling all the way down the white fabric, mid-chest to hem.

“Oh, that’ll leave a stain for sure, even if we catch up to it immediately”, she frowns, getting closer, once she’s settled the temperature.

Dick sighs and then chuckles. “Hazards of the job, I guess”.

Babs looks thoughtful for a while. “Wait here”.

She briefly leaves the room, and he hears noises from somewhere further in the house, doors opening, thrashing, rustling of fabric, Barbara’s voice mumbling something like ‘it’s gotta be somewhere around here, dammit’, and then an exclamation of triumph, before she returns.

“Here”, she simply says, passing him a nicely folded shirt. “It’s yours. It just happened to drop behind after we… you know, ended things between us”.

There’s a certain awkwardness flying around for a few moments, before he breaks it with a smile. “And after we broke things off, you didn’t throw it away or burn it, or rip it?” he jokes.

She shifts a bit, then looks down. “I’d never throw away anything that’s yours”, she says in a low, soft voice.

The tension lingering between them to those words feels… oddly familiar, in a surreal kind of way.

“After all,” she says, with an obvious overtry to sound completely careless, as she turns her back and nervously moves away, “I’ve already told you: our relationship was decent, even after that… Anyway, you can change in…”

He’s already taking his shirt off before the words have finished. He _does_ catch the flash of her eyes moving over his torso between the change, and he can’t help but smirk as the new, clean shirt passes over his head.

“Sure, that too”, she mumbles.

He doesn’t bother to smoother a laugh, and moves to keep tidying up before things get even more uncomfortably heated.

“Oh, no, don’t discard that!” she catches up with him once he’s ready to throw away some of the remaining dough. “Dick! That’s, like, the best part!”

She takes a small ball of it with bare fingers, and he mimics her. Tasty is too small of a word to describe how good it is. As soon as they finish, he notices a small, red droplet at the side of her mouth.

“What?” she raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing, you just… you’ve got… something…”

He arches his hand towards her face, a little haltingly at first, since he realizes it’s a bold move, but he takes courage when he sees she doesn’t move one bit. She barely _breathes_ as his hand gently cups the side of her face before he’s running -needlessly slowly- a thumb over the softness of her lips, letting it rest at the corner of her mouth, removing the red droplet. Those lips slightly part as he does it, her whole face flaming, and something burns inside him.

A guilty, intoxicating warmth of longing claims him, and then he sends all logic to hell to, instead, surrender to pure, firing instinct.

He leans forward, lightly pinning her form on the edge of the table behind, and he brushes his own lips over hers, letting his eyes close, as he rests each hand on either side of her face. She gives a sharp inhalation on his mouth, and, for a moment, he’s wondering if he has to take that as a no, but then her hands slide on his waist, clenching tightly on his shirt, pressing him further over her as his tongue travels in her mouth.

He lightly bites her bottom lip as they part. She gives out a sweet, long, desperate moan as he does that, as they then look into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily. He savors the view of her, her damp, reddened bottom lip.

“D… Dick… we can’t… it’s not… right”, she gasps under her breath, clenching his hands on him even tighter, nonetheless.

“Why?” he asks, realizing how his voice is now trembling in anticipation, as he almost instinctively presses his body over her own. The thought of letting her go right now causes something that feels a lot like despair. “Why isn’t it right? Don’t you want me, Babs? I _want_ you. I want you more than anything”.

She lets out a shout, something between a moan and a cry, and her hands shoot up and clench on his shoulders. She shudders as if she’s about to break into a million pieces when she feels his erection pressing over her lower belly.

This time, it’s her that pulls him into a kiss. He’s surprised at its deepness and possessiveness… and he revels on it. Their hands move helplessly, frantically over each other’s bodies, as many smaller, sloppy kisses follow, wherever there’s bare skin, and when there isn’t anymore, he tugs at the back of his neck, sliding the shirt up his shoulders and torso before it slips off his body completely.

So much for the new shirt, after all.

He realizes she’s done the same with her own, way faster than him. He attacks her and she’s _welcoming_ it. His lips nape at her neck, and she’s throwing her head back in a gasp, to provide further access to it, as her hands press over his firm stomach, and then traveling on his chest, to end up roaming over his shoulders.

His fingers dig into her hips, lifting her legs up, and he places her on the table, stretching out one hand to bare it from all unwanted objects first. His hair isn’t yet long enough for her hands to tunnel through it, but she proceeds on the movement anyway, as if from habit. Their bodies are tensing and tightening as her lips leave markings all over his shoulders and neck, her nails digging into his back, while his hands move to unhook her bra. As they get rid of it too, his own lips glide lower, nibbling at her collarbone before continuing further down the newly revealed skin, and he gives a gentle tug of teeth on one of her nipples.

Barbara squirms breathlessly. "Oh… oh, God...Dick...”

Taking action herself now, she leads her hand to the growing bulge in his pants, receiving a choked gasp in response, which pleases her enough to continue rubbing at it, tugging at the rough fabric. He gives her harden nipple a few more licks before retreating, raising his face again, catching her into a new kiss, as he rolls his hips to press himself further over her hand. Her fingers, swift beyond words, unbutton and unzip him within seconds, and she cups his bulge through the now insufferably tight briefs, squeezing non-too-gently. The sound of his groan fills the room.

“Babs!” he stutters.

“My love”, she whispers, tagging onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in an instant. “I missed you. I missed you so much, Dick”, she bites on his earlobe, her lips enveloping the spot soon after.

He can’t remember anything, and yet he feels he missed her too.

She scratches down his briefs to his mid thighs, and his full hard cock is now free. As if they’d communicated it, they both briefly take their hands off each other, to get rid of the now unwanted burden of their pants.

“Condoms?” she asks breathlessly.

For a moment there, coldness runs down his spine. “Fuck, I… I don’t…”

“It’s ok. Bedroom, top drawer”, she indicates.

She leans forward and he hoists her up by, her thighs pressing hard around his waist as her arms climb to rest on his shoulders. She plants soft, mouthy kisses all over his shoulders, clinging tightly on him as he carries their forms in the bedroom.

He sprawls her out in the bed, looming over her. Gazing at her in awe. Her body shivering in anticipation. Her breasts rising and falling in the rhythm of her sweet, soft panting. Creamy skin over the light green sheets, flushed beautifully pink in her cheeks. Strawberry colored hair swimming all around her head, crowning it.

She pulls herself up, slightly, to brace her hands under his armpits so that her palms end up on his shoulders. Her teeth teasingly scrape on his jaw, as he blindly reaches a hand to open the top drawer of the bed stand, his lips planning kisses at the side of her face. He puts the condom on, and then gently lies her back on the sheets.

Her hands burn onto his skin. His own roam her body like a map, one that he feels so _new_ , yet so _familiar_ at the same time. He smooths one hand up along her thigh and presses it out, making room for himself between her legs.

Dick barely holds himself right now, but he decides to maintain some of his patience, and prolong the fun of it.

She clearly expects him to just go for it, so she yelps in both surprise and sudden pleasure when he instead lowers his head between her legs and envelops her clit between his lips. He proceeds to lap at the sensitive parts, and with each touch and press each press of his tongue, Barbara moans even louder.

She had already been wet enough. By the time this ends, she’s dripping slick in small waves, and she anything but screams, rocking her hips down against the bed, her thighs circling around his head tightly, like she wants to _strangle_ him with them.

She’s almost as red as her hair by the time he raises his head and smiles at her, one hand carding through the curly, red hair of her pubic area.

He puts each hand on one of her hips and slides inside her with one go. She gasps and groans loudly. They’re both far too breathless to be able to produce anything but moans and grunts at that point. She’s pleasantly tight, welcomingly warm, clenching around him in longing and despair. Anticipation runs through his veins, making him thrust harder and _deeper_.

Barbara gives out a sharp grown and then grows heavy beneath him, trembling against him and mouthing something close to his name as her orgasm hits her hard, and he’s now free to chase his own. He keeps rolling his hips in quicker, harder thrusts, and Barbara produces small, breathless, pleasured sounds for each one of them. He pushes himself to his pleasure, and a soft moan escapes her when he spills.

He stays still inside her for a while. He leans over her neck, trembling, and she welcomes him with a warm, tender hug, as he plants a series of soft kisses and small, lingering bites on her neck and collarbone, before he pulls out and lets his body drop beside her in the sheets.

He closes his eyes, feels the smoothness of the hand that comes over his chest soon after, rubbing circles over his sternum. He smiles, releases a breathless laugh. “Wow. **_Wow_** , Babs. That… that was…”

“I know”, she croons, and he can _hear_ the smirk in her own lips as well.

“Why on earth did we break up? How could we… how could we stop doing _that_?”

Barbara hums. “Because you were an idiot, Grayson”.

“Fuck me”.

“I thought I just did”.

They both laugh. With his eyes still closed, he takes the hand from his chest and kisses it tenderly. She draws herself closer, pressing on his side, and brushes her lips on his shoulder.

Her arm comes around his torso, and they stay like that for a while.

Forever, maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just a little something here, casual, sweet moments. :) Enjoy!

It’s not until what it feels like a lifetime later, when, suddenly, her arm is abruptly gone, and her body leaves his side.

He whines in discomfort at the loss of contact and opens his eyes, just to see her having been lifted on one elbow, her gaze towards the door.

“Babs? What is it?”

“Do you smell _smoke_?”

He startles for a second, and then—

“Fuck, our cookies!” she cries out and jumps out of bed.

She grabs a robe from the hanger as she runs out of the room, and he smiles a bit, before he picks himself up as well.

By the time he’s in the kitchen, she’s already taken the sheet out on the table.

“They don’t look _that_ bad,” he comments, shrugging.

“Oh, yeah?” she growls, frowning, and turns one upside down.

Dick smothers a laugh with his palm. The bottom is the darkest shade of black _coal_ he feels he’s ever seen. “We should run a bakery”.

“Absolutely”, she huffs, smirking. “We’ll be screwing in the back and just let the fire department take over. Bruce will be so proud…”

It hits his brain like an electric wave.

He doesn’t react to that. _Tries_ not to, as Barbara proceeds to scrap the burned cookies off the metal sheet, mumbling protests and complaints.

He stays quiet and, mentally, clings tightly on the newly acclaimed memory.

 

***

 

_Barbara rolls her wheelchair back in the bedroom, a plate full of freshly baked, red velvet cookies with white chocolate chips in her lap. She takes one look at him and raises an eyebrow._

_He’s currently sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest, one leg straddling the other, as he nervously moves them both up and down. The grim frown upon his face lingers there, and he’s unable to drive it away. It just makes him even more unnerved. It **feels** unfamiliar._

_“Please, **please** tell me you’re not still thinking about Bruce,” Barbara sighs, approaching._

_He takes the plate so that she can climb beside him on her side. Before she’s even made it, he grabs one huge cookie and shoves half of it in his mouth. When she’s settled, she looks back at him again. He’s still chewing with the same expression, and he can’t help but wonder how funny it must be looking. And yet, he pushes the rest of it inside his already full mouth, just out of spite, it seems._

_“Come on, spit it all out,” she prompts, lazily. “And I don’t mean the cookie. Don’t you dare actually spit on my sheets, Grayson”._

_This small encouragement is enough to make him blow up. He shallows so fast he thinks he might choke for a moment, then abruptly sits up on his knees, grabbing on the pillow and angrily smacking it on the mattress. “Can you even **believe** this guy?” he shouts. “Do you know what he said to me?”_

_“I have a feeling I’m about to find out,” she pinches a cookie from the plate._

_“He said that I needed permission from the kid’s legal guardian to take him out on a fucking **excursion** , Babs--”_

_He pauses a moment to comment, a little more calmly: “Those came out great”, waving at the cookies._

_“I **did** warn you,” she sings out._

_“About **what**?!”_

_“I told you, he’s insanely overprotective of Jason,” she shrugs._

_“But from whom, from **me**?!” he exclaims. “God-fucking-dammit! I didn’t want to sell his organs in the black market or push him into drugs! I just wanted to spend a little time with him, get to know him a little bit!”_

_“Which you did,” she smiles._

_“Yeah, and then when I got Jason back, he was waiting there like we’d been out after midnight drinking ourselves to death!” he huffs. “Jesus Christ, this person! And then he got me in the living room to **lecture** me, **LECTURE** me, Babs, because I **dared** to take the kid out to have some **fun**! Imagine what the poor child must have been through after I left!”_

_“I doubt anything much happened. When Jason gets that cute, sneaky smirk, Bruce can’t say shit to him,” she crosses her hands behind her head. “Dick, relax. He clearly said that to piss you off, just like you pissed him off by not taking his permission to take Jason out. End of story. Maybe he’s even a bit jealous that you two had so much fun together…”_

_“What do you mean ‘ **maybe’**? He all but went green with envy!”_

_“I know,” she frowns a bit. “And plus, such overprotectiveness won’t help Jason. He keens on it and on the attention he’s giving him now, naturally, but as he’s growing up, if this continues… they’re gonna have some problems”._

_“It wasn’t about him being protective this time, he basically told me he was worried about what I might have told Jason about our strained relationship. Like I’m some kind of fucking heartless, cruel bastard, Babs! How dare he even **think** that? That I’d started blurting over accusations about him to the twelve-year-old little boy that clearly adores him?”_

_“Dick,” she says again, calmly. “He was just **angry**. And he’s still bitter that you left home. That’s all”._

_Dick exhales and sinks back on the headboard, starring at the ceiling._

_“Forget about Bruce”, she suggests. “Tell me about Jason. What did you think of him?”_

_His face brightens, as he shifts on his place, turning his body to look at her in excitement. “He is such a sweet child, Babs!” he says lovingly._

_“Toooold you so,” she points out, laughing. “What did you guys do?”_

_“I took him hiking, we took the path through the woods and the park, you remember? We went to Pinchfork Lake, the Glade of Treehouses, the Butterfly Field, the waterfalls, all those places, and you know, the weather was surprisingly great today, so we got to see everything. Jason was so thrilled, you should have seen his face, Babs! Did you know that, more or less, he had never left downtown up until he met Bruce?”_

_“Wow. I did not know that…”_

_“Yeah! I mean, what kind of parents… anyway… he is **adorable** , just adorable! I mean, yeah, first time I met him he was a bit annoying, seemed kind of cocky and all, and frankly, I didn’t like it that Bruce got a Robin… But you know, I think that attitude is just a wall he puts out in the world. Once he gets used to you, puff, all gone!”_

_Barbara nods vividly, grabbing a full bite with her teeth._

_“And even though I don’t think he’s yet realized the heavy responsibility of being Robin -he’s, at the time, far too excited for it-, still, he really, **really** wants to be good! Babs! He’d been watching old tapes of Bruce and me in action and he’s been trying to mimic the stunts, and there was this particular one, very tricky I must say, and he, like, managed it, on his own! He showed me when we got at the Treehouses! He’s such a little daredevil, Babs!”_

_Without realizing it, he’s suddenly on his knees again, threatening to turn the plate upside down for a moment._

_“Oh! And when I explain something to him, he’s, like, crazy focused and concentrated to what I’m saying, so serious at those times! There’s… how should I put it… a **purpose** to his questions, they’re so pertinent and insightful! I mean, hell! When I was his age, Bruce could barely get me to pay attention for even two minutes straight to whatever he was trying to explain -that wasn’t about acrobatics and stunts. My attention was constantly flicking all over the place. But Jason? Far from it! One day, he’ll be just spectacular!”_

_“Dick!” Babs laughs, both surprised and happy as she cups his face. “You’re so excited! I’m so glad you like Jason!”_

_“I… yeah, I guess”, he smiles awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been such a nice day…”_

_His shoulders curl up a bit as he exhales in resignation. “Anyway… it doesn’t matter, really. Since I won’t be seeing him again any time soon”._

_Barbara smirks, almost as sneakily as Jason. “Well… Bruce doesn’t have a problem with **me** hanging out with him. Maybe I’ll convince him let Jason come by. And, oh, I don’t know, maybe -just maybe- you just magically happen to be here”._

_Dick remains startled for a few moments, before a spark shines in his eyes. “We can make cookies again, all together!”_

_Barbara laughs._

 

***

 

He counts it as a personal victory at this point, whenever it happens. Whenever a piece of his past makes it back to him. He says nothing to Barbara, not just yet. He prefers to process it on his own first, like he always does.

A piercing, electronic sound makes them both turn around, realizing there’s a message blinking on the computer screen.

Barbara moves swiftly, approaching. She grabs her glasses before she takes a look at the screen. She clicks, then types something… and sighs. And Dick knows.

“No results”, he concludes.

She glances at him, with an almost apologetic gaze. “I’m sorry, Dick”.

“That’s okay”, he says, despite his disappointment and the sudden emptiness. “You said it might not work out, ever since the beginning”, he takes a seat at the chair in front of the computer. He raises his head and places a brief, light kiss on her lips. “Thank you for trying to help”.

Barbara kisses back, but nevertheless, she looks kind of pensive, starring at the void between the desk and the wall. “Maybe we can try something else”.

“Like what?”

She leans back, straightens her back and crosses her arms. He expects a frown, but instead, it’s a small smile that climbs over her mouth. “When was the last time you saw Tim?”

“You think he’ll know something more?”

“Maybe”, she shrugs. “I told you, Jason trusts him quite a lot. Or, perhaps, he has a different approach to suggest. Tim’s insanely smart. He’s the Detective among you Robins, after all”.

“I’m in”, he declares, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline and excitement, despite his previous weariness. “So… where _is_ Tim? Where are we heading?”

“He’s with the Titans, currently, and _we_ are not heading anywhere”, she says, gently caressing his face. “ _You_ are”.

He draws back, a questioning expression on his face. “What… by myself?”

“I think yes. I can’t leave Gotham, it’s just me and Bruce, at this point. I have my cases lingering here. If I leave, he’ll have to take over those too for a while, and he’ll probably overwork himself to a burnout -and I’m not even joking. So… yeah. You can handle the trip, and after all, you need to start doing things that actually matter on your own again. You want to be more independent, don’t you?”

He shifts on the chair, turning more to face her. It’s an opportunity he’d been looking for. “Listen, Babs, I… I’m very… very sorry about my behavior in the hospital. I was… I was a total jerk to you for no good reason, and… I still can’t figure out why. Maybe because somewhere deep down… I felt you were _something else,_  and… and it was frustrating”.

“Always know how to save things, don’t you, Grayson?” she laughs and kisses him again. “Apology accepted. But still, you’re doing this, if you really want to find Jason. And I figure out you very much _do_ ”.

“I do”, he admits, leaning forward to briefly nuzzle on her neck. “But… what about _us_? This?”

“I’ll be here”, she says softly. “Listen, Dick… this is… beyond amazing. And, damn me, I _love_ you. I always have and always will. But with everything that’s been going on with you lately, this is the very _definition_ of Facebook’s ‘It’s complicated’ status”.

“But… I don’t want us to stop now, before we even begin!”

“We don’t have to. Just… let’s not put up labels just yet. Let’s just let it happen… and see how it goes. Like we’re at the beginning again”.

Dick likes that thought.

He lets his hand brush through her long, shiny hair as he kisses her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finale next time! >>>>>> Enter Tim!
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys! ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could just as well call this "Tim to the rescue" XD
> 
> Enjoy! :)

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you, Dick. You look quite well”.

Conner sets a tight grip on his shoulder and Dick smiles back at him. The genuine interest shown to him by his former life’s friends has a deeply heartwarming feeling sprawling inside him. His only intention by getting to their base after an almost five-hour flight had been talking to Tim, but at this point, he’s beyond glad to be able to spend some time with them as well.

“What do you mean by ‘ _quite’_ , Conner? He’s basically back to himself again!” Megan giggles happily as she wraps her arms around him and squeezes, lovingly placing her head on his shoulder. “If the hair grows back, there will be zero difference on the outside,” she cheers, one hand stroking over his scalp and his still very short black hair.

“Well, at least my head feels light without it,” he jokes.

“Ah, see, old Dick would never say such a thing,” Donna interferes. “Wait until he gets back to you fully. You’ll pass out after crying too hard in front of your mirror, pleading to any god that hears that they give back your fabulous, priceless hair, or take your life once and for all”.

He tosses her a pillow from the couch and she catches it, laughing.

The sound of an arrival through the main gate makes them all turn to the direction of the dull voice announcing: _“B, 20. Welcome, Red Robin”._

“Hey Tim,” Conner calls. “Can you come in here for a second?”

They hear a groan, then heavy footsteps getting closer. “But I just got here,” he says in complaint. “Conner, I’ve told you, your laptop’s hard drive is wrecked, no matter how many times I fix it, it will keep crushing—”

He freezes at the door, jaw dropping, and eyes widen as Dick stands up, smiling. “Hey, Tim”.

Once the surprise is gone, Tim crosses the room with a few strides and sets his hands gently on his shoulders, grasping with pleasant tightness. “Dick!” he says delighted, the aqua blue eyes shining with obvious joy. “Dick!”

It’s clear that he wants to hug him, but instead, he holds back at the last moment. At first, Dick wonders why that is, in disappointment. He himself feels beyond happy to see Tim again. And then, he remembers how he was at the hospital. How Tim’s approach was different than everyone else’s, with soft spoken words of logic and sentiment alike, and all the honesty the doctors -and possibly Bruce- would allow him to mix to everything he’d told him while answering his questions back then… and how, even though, for some reason, he was never as distant and cold to Tim as to everyone else, he still was jerk enough to blandly announce him that “he didn’t like to be touched by strangers”, when the kid tried to hug him once, just before he got discharged from the hospital.

Just like it had happened with Barbara, a wave of guilt and regret rushed inside to suffocate him at the memory of the pain his raw rejection had inflicted, so graphic over those big, clear blue eyes.

“I’m sorry I showed up like this,” he suddenly feels the need to apologize about something, anything. “I just… I need to talk to you.”

“This is your home too,” Conner reassures him. “Don’t expect permission to come by.”

“Nah, let him just pretend, so that we can mollycoddle him,” Donna teases again, and, reaching out from behind, she plants a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“Let me get a quick shower and I’ll be right with you,” Tim promises, smiling. “If your nerves survive Donna, that is.”

“How did the mission go, Tim?” Megan shouts as he rapidly walks out again.

“Fine, everything fine, I’ll tell you later,” his voice calls from afar now.

Donna chuckles and Megan is on her feet now too, lightly squeezing his arm with a timid smile. “He’s very happy to see you. You’re always on his mind, you know”.

Her lips haven’t moved at all, and he instantly realizes she spoke directly in his mind. Which means she can probably read through him, spotting the guilt her words made way heavier than before.

 _“Don’t worry,”_ she softly says into his head again. _“He understands”._

 

* * *

 

 

 

He tells Tim everything, same as he did with Barbara.

He proves himself to be as much of a listener as her, though Tim, unlike Babs, does stop him in one or two occasions to ask some explanatory questions. Dick can’t really comprehend the meaning behind them, but answers anyway.

When he’s done speaking, Tim leans back to the chair of his desk. He’s changed into sweatpants and a casual, light blue t-shirt. They’re in his room, and Dick’s currently occupying the bed.

“I can’t help you, Dick.”

The calm, steady words hit his face like a lash, before disappointment flashes, burning him inside. It’s the last thing he expected to hear. “But… Tim… I thought… Barbara said that you and Jason were in quite good terms, that Jason trusts you, probably much more than the rest of us… why wouldn’t you want to –”

“No, you didn’t get me. My mistake. I can’t help you find Jason… because I’ve already tried. And failed. Repeatedly”.

Dick remains startled for several moments before Tim leans forward again, back bowed and hands resting on his knees. He lowers his head and briefly closes his eyes, drawing one long, deep breath inside. “Every day,” he says quietly, slightly nodding to his computer platform. “I run a search every day ever since… _that_ happened. It’s become part of my morning routine at this point,” he lets out one small, miserable laugh.

Something kicks hard inside, moving him deeply, and he wants to reach forward and pull Tim into a hug so tight that he’d have difficulty breathing.

“How was he when you saw him?” he asks, voice melting partly in agony, partly in desperation.

“He was well, quite well,” he’s quick to assure him. “Physically, at least. No visible marks”.

Tim looks slightly more at ease once he hears that, but still has that look of defeat and resignation on his face. “Listen, Dick. Jason… his life has been an endless race to survival, always through bitter and steel… and more blood than you can ever imagine. And he’s only twenty-three.” He stops to rub his face for a second. “The short breaks through this hell have always been followed by even more pain and destruction. I just… I just want his soul to break free from it. For him to finally have some happiness”.

There’s a long pause before Tim gets up and steps to the window, eyes wandering outside.

“Over the course of those months, I’ve wanted nothing more than to just see him, talk to him… let him know I’m here, always here for him. I _still_ want it, more than anything. But with everything you’ve said, I’m thinking now that… if he’s decided he’ll be better off without us… maybe we should just respect his decision and let him be. Maybe… maybe this is what he needs to earn the life he deserves”.

The pain and reluctance in his voice are just too much, and Dick rises to his feet and approaches him. “Why do you speak like we intend to hold him back? I want nothing of sorts, and I’m sure you don’t want anything like it either. I know I don’t remember much, definitely not in detail, but… the memories that made it back to me… the things people said about my relationship with Jason… I know I haven’t been right with him, and don’t try to claim the opposite, alright? I was a jerk at times, and it’s something I have to live with”.

“You’ve done your best,” Tim tries, not so eagerly.

“No Tim, I didn’t, and you don’t have to cover up for me. There’s a reason why everyone said Jason feels closer to you than me. Closer to you, despite the fact that he hated you, tried to kill you even. You’ve been… _better_ to him than I was, once he got back. Much kinder and more companionate, Barbara said. And I won’t lie, it… kind of hurts. But it’s something I’ve brought on myself, apparently. I don’t know, I can’t remember why that was the case… but I have to accept it and try to fix it”.

“Fix it how, Dick?”

“I want to find him so that I can tell him I understand. I understand how he feels, and he’s got every right to be angry, and cold, and bitter. And also, that… that I’m sorry, for everything I’ve done in the past. Or, more accurately… for everything I _didn’t_ do. For not ever making him my priority, even when I absolutely had to. For not being there for him the way I should have -and _when_ I should have. For not ever being willing to give him a chance, to actually try and feel him, understand him, and everything he’d been through”.

Tim finally turns his eyes from the world out of the window to look at him.

“I don’t want to hold him back, Tim,” he says softly. “I just want to… to be his brother. Or at least let him know I’m willing to be… if he ever finds it in his heart to accept me”.

It takes several moments for Tim to give him any kind of response. “I won’t stop trying,” he says then with a faint smile. “ _And,_ I’m kinda starting to like amnesiac-you”.

He gives a playful punch on his shoulder and they both laugh.

“Tim,” he says then, before he can restrain himself. “I know that the next thing is going to be uncomfortable, but… I don’t know with who other can I talk this through, other than you”.

“Go ahead,” Tim shrugs and goes to sit back on his chair.

“The thing I’m about to… I want to discuss… it regards Bruce.”

Tim doesn’t flinch, or otherwise reacts in any way. “What about him?” he says, with a steady voice and an unreadable expression.

“Nothing much, just… I want to know what _you_ think about his behavior that night”.

“Inexplicable,” is the word that instantly escapes his lips, no second thoughts.

Dick raises his eyebrows, surprised. “Oh… sorry, I just didn’t expect it to be the first…”

“I know,” he nods in understanding, a very serious look upon him. “You must have expected words like cold, cruel, brutal, inexcusable and indefensible… which are all on point, by the way… but the truth is that, after five months thinking about it almost daily… what both shocks and scares me the most about that night and his actions is how _inexplicable_ all of this was”.

He feels a shiver down his spine, unable to comprehend the exact reason why. “You… you are not on speaking terms with him, right?”

Tim snorts and raises his shoulders. “I stopped contacting him ever since it happened. He got the message and quit trying after a while. We briefly spoke again when you got shot. Nothing since you got better. If he calls and has something to tell, I’ll hear him out, as long as it’s very, _very_ serious. But not otherwise”.

His words are very similar to those from his memory of their fight (which he didn’t want to address now, possibly spoiling this relatively warm and sweet climate between them), though he detected now much less emphasis and anger. “Not that this is any kind of defense, but I think he’s regretted it”.

“Good. I’m glad there’s at least some sense left in him as to repent”.

“And… and I also think he misses him. And all of us”.

Tim’s eyelids flicker a little, but still remains stoic. “Serves him right”.

“Damn straight. However, I… It’s hard for me to accept the fact that the man who did this to Jason is the same guy I found seated on the floor of the cave, gazing at his Robin’s old suit for God knows how long before I came in, clearly far too broken from whatever talk they had, and then, when I ask him how, how the hell is that possible, what on earth was he thinking when he’d done that, only answering by ‘I wasn’t thinking’… How is that possible, Tim?”

He stops talking and detects a sudden change in the atmosphere. Tim has arched his back, agitated, obviously unsettled now by something he’d said. “What… Bruce said that? That he wasn’t _thinking_?”

He nods, and watches, as Tim gets briefly lost in what seems to be a maze of his own thoughts. “What could that even mean?” he murmurs, eyes on the floor, frowning a little. “Bruce wouldn’t say such a thing… even if it was true, he wouldn’t admit it like _that_ … not unless it meant _something_ …”

Even though Tim seems to be talking to himself much more than to him, Dick still makes it to a question. “What’s so weird about it?”

Tim rubs a hand over his mouth. Dick thinks he can vaguely see the gears of his mind working, feverishly, relentlessly. He’s clearly triggered something there. “You see… when I overcame the biggest wave of anger and despair over what had happened… I also found myself asking the same questions as you. Bruce doing that to one of us, to _Jason_ … this isn’t just weird, Dick, it’s not _him_ , you understand? I desperately wanted to find out about something, anything, a clue pointing out to a different conclusion, so… I looked for one”.

“But you didn’t find any”.

Tim shakes his head. “No. I didn’t. But what you’re saying right now… that he wasn’t _thinking_ … Look, you might think I’m crazy for taking this too seriously…”

“Nah, it’s interesting,” he hums. “Go on!”

“… but you know, Bruce wouldn’t openly say something like that, not even to you, not even if it was true, unless there’s something between the lines here. I think he didn’t _mean_ to say it -to admit it out loud. I think it slipped him”.

Dick recalls Bruce’s frame that day. How tired and exhausted, how defeated, how desperate and clearly miserable he had been, and he thinks that, yes, in such a state, something like that could have happened.

“So, if he says he wasn’t thinking… _why_ wasn’t he?” Tim continues. “I’d seen him just the previous night, near dawn, actually, and he was fine, as good as he could have been at the time. Significantly stiffer and colder, still on ache from Selina’s runaway project, yes, but calm, perfectly preserved and logical! Especially after what had happened with Freeze, his rage had completely dried out of him, Dick! And after that, he was bound not to let anything like it happen again! He was so much more careful with everything! He was _calm_! So what on earth happened between those less-than-twelve hours that led him to snap like that? Because something must have happened…”

He stands up, gasps, and slaps his own forehead. “Dick!” he exclaims. “I’ve been looking in the wrong direction, all this time!”

“Uh, what? What do you…”

“Alright, maybe more than twelve, maybe about twenty hours. Twenty hours from the time I saw him,” Tim mumbles to himself again, standing now, stepping up and down across the room. “Twenty hours until the snap. It was five o’clock when we parted and I left Gotham. Must have been home by six, sleeping by seven. How long, five, six hours? Say five, cause it’s Bruce… then probably office, until about, I don’ know, six? Home by seven, dinning by eight… yeah. Yeah. The snap was at about two a.m., which leaves us with about… six hours”.

Their gazes cross. “You think something happened somewhere between those six hours?”

“It’s typical hours of the Bat. It’s highly possible”.

“But… Tim… what could it have been? I mean no offence, but are we even certain that there _is_ something here?”

“I don’t know, Dick,” he says quietly, and Dick detects what he’d might as well call the perfect detective spark in his eyes. “But if there _is_ … then I _will_ find out”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Next part ==> Jason!
> 
> (and not alone... XD)

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: [Lady Paper Writerson's Tumblr](https://ladypaperwriterson.tumblr.com/)


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